


Thoughts He Must Not Think

by UnabashedBird



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cas negative, Episode Related, Episode Tag: s11e19 The Chitters, Gen, POV Sam Winchester, dean negative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6682822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnabashedBird/pseuds/UnabashedBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The contrast between Dean's willingness to let Jesse and Cesar retire peacefully, without troubling them about Amara, and the way Dean never let Sam do the same thing, brings some of Sam's other frustrations momentarily to the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts He Must Not Think

The respite lasts until they’re an hour from the bunker.

It’s late, Sam is tired, and Dean is talking about Cas again. They have to get him back, they have to figure out where he is, they have to save him.

And it’s not that Sam doesn’t want to do those things.

But.

There’s the part that Dean isn’t saying, that he _never says_  because it doesn’t slot neatly into Dean’s categories of existence. The part where Cas _chose_  this, where he _let Lucifer out_  because he’s—

Sam stifles the thought. Shoves it down, down deep where it won’t interfere with the equilibrium he and Dean have found.

The thought doesn’t stay down, though, it worms its way, hot and insistent, back to the fore of Sam’s mind, every time.

_Because Cas means well but he has a long history of not thinking things through with disastrous results. Because Cas decided, in that moment and despite everything, that letting Lucifer out was worth it. Worth making everything Sam did, everything Sam suffered, meaningless._

Sam thinks of how he let them all blame him, back then, because it gave him the resolve to fix it. But it wasn’t all him. He holds most of the responsibility, he should have known better, yes. It’s just. One seal out of 66. He refuses to hold Dean responsible for the first, because it was hell and Sam knows a thing or two about that. Only, well. Another treacherous worm of a thought, about how at least Sam thought he was saving the world, even if he should have known better, while Dean . . . no. No, he won’t think that way, he _won’t_ , not when things are good again.

Anyway, this is about Cas. Cas who opened the panic room door, allowing Sam to escape to Ruby and all the rest. Cas who pulled Sam soulless from hell and used him instead of telling him the truth. Cas who worked with Crowley and unleashed the Leviathan. Cas who believed Metatron and sent the angels crashing to earth.

Maybe it had all been in Sam’s head, the friendship he thought had grown between him and the strange angel who kept on trying, who imagined for himself a greater purpose than . . . _no_. That isn’t fair.

Except that it maybe kind of is.

Sam jumped into the _Cage_  with Michael and _Lucifer_ , condemned himself to an eternity of torture to fix the mistakes they all made and save the world. And it was worth it, and he was at peace with it.

And now, because Cas once again did the thing that seemed right in the moment with no thought for the consequences _and no wonder Dean misses him so much two peas in a pod right there_ , it doesn’t matter. Lucifer is out, and he’s in the body they think of as Cas, even though, really, if the body is anyone’s it’s Jimmy Novak’s, and he’s long gone.

But Dean doesn’t think like that. Actually, Sam doesn’t know what Dean thinks.

Wishes he didn’t know.

If he focuses, he can see the pattern, and it makes him sick to his stomach. Which is why he doesn’t look at it, mostly.

Things are good. After a year and a half of the Mark, and Gadreel before that, and the Trials before that, and Dean bitter and angry from purgatory before that and and and—

Sam gives himself a mental shake. Things are good, so he won’t see the pattern, can’t _allow_  himself to see, because _things are good, dammit!_  


It’s just, in moments like this, it’s hard. Because it made so much sense to Dean to let Jesse and Cesar ride off into the sunset to raise horses in New Mexico. They said they were out, they had a plan for a happy future, so that was that.

For them.

Maybe it’s that Dean has matured since he broke into Sam and Jess’ apartment at Stanford. And he’s not riding on trauma and angst like he was when he rode Sam nonstop for Riot and Amelia. That’s what Sam tries to think, what he tries to hold onto.

But it fits the pattern, the pattern Sam can’t, won’t look at because he can’t lose this, he’s not strong enough, not anymore.

That’s probably why, when Dean drops his bag on the floor in the library, goes to put on coffee despite the late hour, and comes back with a beer, clearly settling in for more fruitless research in lieu of sleep, Sam can’t hold all the hot, pent-up thoughts in any more.

“Really?” he snaps.

“What?” Dean says, hands spread.

“Why are you doing this? Seriously, why?"

“Uh, because it’s Cas and we need to get him back."

“Do we?"

“Sam!"

“No, OK. Just. Just listen. Cas is our friend, yes. But he _chose_  this. And that body isn’t _him_ , it’s a vessel, and yeah, Dean, it _is_  an it, because its actual owner left the premises years ago. I don’t pretend to understand how it’s possible for two angels to occupy the same vessel, especially when one of them is Lucifer and we all remember what _I_  had to do and I was—“ Sam stops, breathing hard, shoving down memories he can’t afford to wrestle with right now. “Anyway, point is, even if the vessel gets destroyed, it won’t necessarily kill Cas. And, most importantly, he _chose this_. He understood the risks, and he did it anyway. It was a stupid, thoughtless, selfish thing to do, but he did it. On purpose. And just because the Horn of Joshua fell through doesn’t mean we might not still need Lucifer and, newsflash, it’s unlikely we’ll find another vessel who will both consent _and_  be able to contain Lucifer without disintegrating. Unless you were thinking of volunteering me?” slips out before he can stop it.

“What? No, of course not! It’s just—"

“Don’t say ‘it’s Cas’ again, that’s not an answer."

“Why are you so twisted up about this all of a sudden?"

Sam sighs. “Not ‘all of a sudden.’ I just didn’t think there was any point talking about it before. But you’ve gone obsessive, I mean, you’re putting more effort into this than you even did on curing the Mark” _shit_  “and I just . . . “ He makes himself stop, takes a deep breath. It’s not worth it is the cold, tired thought he uses to try and douse the hot writhing ones. For the moment, he succeeds. “Sorry. I just lost it a little bit. I’m tired, you know? Long drive. Forget it, OK? I mean, eventually we’ll need to be able to help Cas kick Lucifer out so we can send the devil back to the Cage. So do whatever you want.” He manages not to say _You always do_. Small mercies.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe we could both use some sleep,” is all Dean says.

Another small mercy.

A short while later, Sam lays in bed, trying not to feel the anger and hurt and frustration boiling under the surface.

Trying to keep it all at bay.

Because things are finally good.

Aren’t they?


End file.
